That's What I Do
by Joella
Summary: Eliot admited that he hurt people as part of his job. A job gone wrong forces the team to see Eliot as the professional retrieval specialist that he is.
1. Chapter 1

**That's What I Do**

_A/N: I own no rights to Dean Devlin's world of Leverage. I'm just playing with the characters but trying to stay true to their vision. Story is set some time during season one during several episodes and ending before Juror #6._

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Eliot Spencer hated Murphy and his stupid law right now. Whatever _could_ have gone wrong with their latest job had. He followed Sophie Deveraux and Alec Hardison down the hallway of their floor in the hotel, still dripping as he went. He didn't admit to them how much he was hurting, but the fact that he didn't keep up with their pace clued them in.

It was supposed to have been a simple job. This investor had been skimming money from people's accounts and had caused their client to file for bankruptcy when he and his family lost everything. One day they had had over $750,000 in their fund and the next day barely enough to cover the gas bill for their car.

Hardison's electronic digging had shown the team that Peter Macias had taken the money and sent it…elsewhere. They had flown to St. Louis to track the man down and figure out how to get the money back, with interest. What they found wasn't what they had expected.

Sophie had set the mark up just as Nate Ford had planned. She went to meet Macias at his office in the evening; his business took up the entire two floors of the building. Macias didn't want any witnesses that he was meeting such an exalted person as the Countess de Viter who wanted him to help her with her finances. Eliot and Hardison snuck into an empty office on the second floor to do their part. The plan had been for Hardison to piggyback a signal when Macias made the transfer, so Hardison could pull out the money owed and make a clean getaway. That _had_ been the plan.

On the floor above Sophie, Hardison watched and waited for the signal while Eliot kept a lookout for security. Hardison talked to himself as he watched lines of code flash down his screen. Finally, "Ha! Gotcha. Piece of cake, baby!" he exclaimed. Then he read what appeared next on his screen and sighed. "Uh-oh. Why are they always this hard?"

"What's wrong, Hardison?" Nate asked. He so did not need this. He wanted to get back to the hotel and find that nice bottle of scotch. Across town from the office, he was waiting in a parked car down the street while Parker broke into Macias' house. They were looking for anything else to help them in their sting. Something seemed off with the accounts. He should have had more money than he did. Surely their clients weren't his only victims. Where _had _it gone? Was he just the middleman? Who had the money? Nate needed more answers.

"The piggyback signal worked but the money isn't here. Nate? What do you want us to do?"

Eliot leaned his forehead against the door frame. Life had been easier in a weird way when all he had had to do was go get something. His targets had been tangible, not this computer crap. Hardison always mocked him for his reliance on his fists but truth to tell, he got results easier when he could grab it, or hit it, or retrieve it. When one of _his _jobs had gone sideways, it was because he had been spotted. Not because some zeros and ones didn't add up.

Nate did some quick thinking and then decided. "Parker? I need you to look for hardcopies too. Anything you think might have to do with Macias' finances or business dealings. Look for contacts, phone numbers, any other clients he might have. Eliot. Hardison. Get out of there and go wait for Sophie. We'll regroup and figure out what our next move is."

The two men had gone down via the stairwell and out the back door. What they hadn't expected were the two bruisers who were standing outside taking a smoke break. It had been a standoff for an eyeblink. Then Eliot pushed Hardison behind him and went to work.

The men were so beefy that Eliot's punches just sank into flesh and did little harm. They, on the other hand, used their bulk against him to their advantage. Eliot ended up in the small fountain on the back lawn. His muscles clenched from the chilly water. January in St. Louis was not temperate.

Hardison watched the fight; he wanted to help but if Eliot couldn't handle them, there wasn't much he could do. He gave a running commentary to the others on the action since Nate was demanding answers, and Eliot couldn't take the time to fill him in. It was the worst part of Nate's job; he could hear the fighting but could do nothing to help.

"Shit!" Everyone froze at Haridison's yell.

"What?" bellowed Nate since nothing else was forthcoming except some very odd sounds from Eliot.

"He…he.."

"Hardison!" Nate put as much urgency into that one word as he could. Getting upset would not help his team.

Hardison shook himself. During the past minute, Eliot had finally managed to knock down one of his opponents and when he turned to face the other, was knocked over the side of the hill as the thug tackled him. Both men dropped out of Hardison's sight.

He ran to the edge of the incline skirting the fallen man. Looking down, Hardison felt his heart sink as the slope vanished into the darkness. Who knew what was down there? "Eliot?" he asked over his earwig as he swallowed convulsively. He pulled his flashlight out of his back pocket and swept the area below him. Finally, he caught some movement.

"Get that out of my face!" Eliot growled. Blinded by the glare, he had to stop moving. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but it was a good thing to stand still. His head was still swimming a bit from the tumbling around. Luckily, the idiot who had tried to take him down had hit the boulder at the bottom first. Eliot had been shaken but wasn't seriously hurt. Of course, the trip down the hill had introduced his body to various smaller rocks, stumps, and other obstacles. He was wet and bruised and…blinded again. "Turn that off," he yelled. Damn the man. Didn't he understand anything? Pounding a fist against his leg in frustration, Eliot resumed climbing.

Hardison was lucky that by the time Eliot made it to the top that he was so tired. Otherwise, he might have had a new bruise himself. As it was, Eliot settled for glaring at him through the strands of wet hair that had found their way out of his ponytail. During the entire climb he'd had to listen to Hardison giving the others a rundown on his progress up the hill.

"Sophie? You done yet?" Eliot growled via his comm.

"Just reaching the lobby," she said. She'd been forced to make polite smalltalk while listening to the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and grunts of pain for too long a time. It was a good thing she was such a good actress, she thought, since she had to keep a cheery countenance the entire time. Pushing open the doors, Sophie headed towards her car. She drove around to the back and picked the two men up.

Eliot elected to sit in the back seat. He wanted to sprawl a bit. He listened to the others converse about what they'd not found about Macias' business dealings. Startled from a doze, Eliot was surprised to find they'd made it to the hotel already. Shivering, Eliot stood in the cold wind while Hardison grabbed their duffle bag and then all three went inside. One glare from Eliot was all it took to make the doorman find something else interesting to look at.

Sophie watched Eliot out of the corner of her eye while they rode up in the elevator. He was shaking with cold; the sooner he got changed and warm, the better for him. He had a bruise on his jaw that was beginning to darken and his knuckles were scrapped raw, and a cut over his eye was still sluggishly bleeding.

As Sophie unlocked their suite's door, Eliot made a beeline for the west bedroom. His bag was there, and he wanted to get out of his wet clothes.

"Well, I hope he's okay. He'd tell us if he needed anything?" Sophie asked everyone. "Right?" She faintly heard the sound of the shower starting, and the curtain being yanked back and forth.

Hardison just looked at her and snorted. "Yeah, 'cause he's so sharing with the info."

"Hardison? Can you use what you pulled?" Nate brought them back to business. Parker was still inside the house retrieving what she could find.

"Let me get my computer set up, Nate. Give me a few." Hardison sat down at the table, opened his laptop, and began to peruse the data he'd pulled.

Sophie wandered around the room at a loss of what to do. She listened as the shower turned off, heard the bathroom door open, and then nothing else. She waited for several minutes and then couldn't stand it any longer. She pushed open the bedroom door slowly and let the main room's light illuminate the dark interior.

Eliot was sprawled on the left bed. It looked like he'd sat on the edge and then fallen backwards to lie down. As the light touched his face, his eyes started open. "What?" He twisted to his right and rose quicker than she had expected he would be able to. Eliot winced as the aches made themselves known. Again. His left shoulder had what felt like a bone deep bruise in it. He hadn't lost major mobility; it just hurt like hell to move it.

Sitting upright and blinking in the bar of light, Eliot scrubbed his face with his hand. "They back yet?" He hadn't meant to fall asleep. "How long was I out?"

"Not long, just a few minutes actually," Sophie assured him. Touching her comm she asked, "Nate? What's your ETA?"

"That's up to Parker." A lift in his voice at the end of the sentence turned it into a question for her.

"Okay, Nate, I've got the info off of Macias' hard drive and a few hardcopies that look like what you wanted. I'm on my way down."

"We'll be back in about 45 minutes depending on how fast Parker gets to the car," he told the others.

Turning towards Eliot, Sophie put as many soothing tones into her voice as she thought he'd take. "Why don't you lie down for a few more minutes? We can't do anything else until Nate gets here. I'll wake you when he does." She mentally crossed her fingers hoping she could keep the others quiet enough so that Eliot could sleep a bit longer than that. They had all been going on short sleep these past few days but that fight seemed to have taken a lot out of him. They could do without his help for a bit. She hoped he'd understand.

Eliot knew he was drained and a bit of sleep would bring some of his edge back. Easing back down onto the bed, he was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the mattress. He never heard Sophie pulling the door to.

A scream that was cut off woke Eliot instantly. For a second, he was confused and didn't know where he was. The stiffness in his body was the first clue and memory caught up with him. He rolled off the bed and went to the bedroom door.

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TBC. Please let me know what you think of this story so far.


	2. Chapter 2

**That's What I Do **

Chapter 2

_A/N: I own nothing from the world of John Rodgers and Dean Devlin's Leverage. Warning, there are a few cuss words in this chapter._

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A choked-off scream woke Eliot and he was off the bed and at the door before conscious thought caught up with his body. Reaching into his jeans' back pocket, he pulled out his earwig and put it in. Nothing definitive. Listening for a moment, he launched himself out into the main room. There were two men inside their suite. Hardison was struggling against a third man trying to enter the suite's front door while Sophie was trying to pull her arm away from the grasp of another. Eliot took the third man down by breaking his nose with a left elbow sweep followed by a right cross to the jaw. Eliot then spun towards Sophie before his opponent even hit the floor.

Grinning at Eliot, the thug holding her pulled out a gun and set it against Sophie's chin. "Stop or I'll blow her brains out." Eliot froze, uncertain. Balancing on his toes, Eliot tried to figure out what his options were. He ignored Nate's voice in his earwig demanding for an update from anyone.

The only warning Eliot had was a widening of Sophie's eyes as someone else stepped into the room behind him. Starting to turn, his head met the descending ASP baton with a resounding crunch. Eliot dropped bonelessly to the floor.

Sophie stopped struggling in shock. She heard an exclamation from Hardison behind her, "Aw, _**hell**_ no!" Each expected Eliot to roll to one side and bounce to his feet and proceed to take their opponents down. He didn't move. Both were easily subdued and then frogmarched around their fallen teammate into the eastern bedroom and forced into chairs. Each of their arms was tied to a chair arm with plastic binding strips.

In the main room, the man with the freshly-broken nose went to Eliot's prone body to check him. He smiled. When this guy woke up, he would take the time to beat the shit out of him before killing him. Jerking the unresisting arms behind the fallen man's back, he secured Eliot's wrists with a cruelly-tightened plastic band. Reaching under one of Eliot's arms, he dragged the unconscious man into the bedroom and dropped him. Looking over at the two conscious captives, he smirked and shut the door.

Nate hissed. "Anybody! Answer me! What's happening?" He'd heard Eliot fighting, the threat against Sophie, and then silence. There hadn't been a gunshot but still…there _were _other weapons the men could have used. His heart was in his throat. "Sophie?"

Nate's voice had been clamoring in her ear since she'd first screamed, but she hadn't wanted to respond and let their captors know she was in contact with outside people. "I'm here, Nate." She swallowed heavily hoping the fear would subside soon. If she had been standing, her knees would have been shaking. "So's Hardison. Eliot's…down." Her voice betrayed her by wavering. "He's unconscious."

Nate gunned the gas pedal. This could be worse than he thought. "How are you all restrained?"

"We're in the east bedroom. Hardison and I are tied up to chairs. Eliot's tied up on the floor."

"That was a mistake. They should have tied him_ to_ something." Nate was certain Eliot would quickly wake and then there would be hell to pay. "We're on our way back; we should be there in about twenty minutes."

Hardison wasn't exactly sure how long a person would stay unconscious when knocked out. "Shouldn't he be waking up by now? He's sure taking his own sweet time." He used sarcasm to try to hide the fact that he was worried. Eliot hadn't stirred at all, and he'd been dropped so that his face was turned away from them. They had no idea how badly he was hurt. Surely he was alive since they'd tied him up.

There was nothing they could do but wait. Wait to see what happened next. See who made the first move.

***

"We're outside the hotel. He's not woken up yet?" At the negative answer, Nate exchanged a worried glance with Parker. If Eliot was still unconscious that was not a good sign. It would complicate things as well. Without Eliot, they would have a hard time breaking the others free not to mention trying to carry him. Muscle weighed a lot. Okaayyy. Plan B. "Here's what we're going to do. Parker, you're going to have to pull the fire alarm. Hopefully they will leave or at least be distracted enough so that we can…"

"Hold on a minute, Nate," Sophie whispered. She thought she had seen Eliot jerk his head a bit. Hoping his comm was in his ear, she spoke softly, "Eliot?" She didn't want to alert whoever was outside to what was going on in the room.

A grunted "Uh huh," came over all their comms. All four sighed with relief.

"The bad guys aren't in this room," Sophie informed him.

"Where are you guys?" Eliot's voice sounded harsher than usual. His head was swimming, and his vision kept going dark.

"We're in chairs right behind you about three feet away. You're about two feet from the door." Hardison had learned enough about Eliot to know he'd want that info first.

With his arms pinned behind him, Eliot had to struggle to sit up. Dizziness overwhelmed him and nausea took control. "Shit." Falling back toward the carpet, Eliot spewed what little he had in his stomach. He spat a few times and slowly rolled over onto his back with his eyes closed. He ignored the pain in his bound wrists which were pinned beneath him now.

Now Sophie could see where Eliot had been struck. The left side of his head was covered in blood that matted his hair. His face, filmed with beads of sweat, was pale against his hair; his breathing was rapid and forced through his teeth as he tried to gain control of his rebellious stomach.

"Eliot?" Nate's voice came over their comms. "Are you okay? Someone?" If Eliot was that nauseous, he must have an even more severe head injury than he'd originally thought. He might still be out of the picture in regards to planning their escape.

Swallowing heavily, Eliot stiffly levered himself upright to a sitting position while keeping his eyes screwed shut. When the whirling in his head stopped, he opened his eyes to regard the worried ones of Hardison and Sophie. He grimaced. _"Suck it up," _he told himself, he would have rested longer if it had been just him but it wasn't. _"They're counting on you."_ The plastic binding was cutting off circulation to both hands; they were numb. Taking a deep breath, he rose to his knees, rested a moment with his head hanging down, and took another deep breath before making it all the way to his feet. He staggered a step or two to the side until he found his balance and stood straight. Habit would have made him toss his head to get the hair out of his eyes, but he stopped himself just in time. He knew he'd probably end up on the floor again if he did. "How many are still out there?" he ground out.

Hardison had been waiting for Eliot to ask for more info and told him, "There's one, maybe two." He could almost see the wheels turning behind Eliot's eyes as he thought out his options. Hardison spoke, "Nate? What's Plan A since Eliot's up?"

Relieved that Parker would not have to do this alone, Nate instructed her, "Go into the hotel and get up there as fast as you can. If he needs a distraction, you can give it. You've got your key, right?" He turned to his right to see the door closing. "Okay. Eliot, give Parker about 10 minutes to get up there and into place. What do you plan to do?" At this stage, Nate didn't know what Eliot was capable of pulling off.

Scanning the room, Eliot saw that both the women's bags had been removed. Dammit. He had a knife in the other room; he had no way to get their hands loose. Not in here anyways. He didn't spot Parker's little waist pouch either. Nevermind, he had his skills. He glided over to the door to listen in an attempt to determine how many were left in the front room that he would have to take out. Standing there, he could hear only one person moving around. It sounded like he was typing on Hardison's computer. If there was another person, he was very still or asleep. Stepping away, Eliot measured a few steps to determine the best angle for his attack. Coiling his body, Eliot turned his face toward the others and hissed at Sophie, "Make some noise."

Confused for a moment, Sophie couldn't figure out what he planned to do.

"Can you take them?" Nate asked. Whatever Eliot's plan was, he didn't share it with any of them. Maybe he was making it up as he went. They'd have to trust him.

"I'm pretty sure. Where's Parker?"

"Getting off the elevator. I'll be there in a jiff," added the blond thief.

"Don't come in yet, just be ready to." Nodding his head slightly, he indicated that Sophie needed to make whatever distraction she had decided to do. "Now."

She was quite proud of her scream; it echoed in the small room. Ready to add some drama, she inhaled as the door was flung open.

Listening to the footsteps approaching the door before it was flung open, Eliot was waiting.

Hardison saw it all. The door opened. The thug entered. He didn't even have a chance to react when he saw Eliot. Eliot took a single step, rotated then planted his left foot and using the heel of his right boot, sidekicked the thug in the throat. The thug went down, choking his last breath out through a crushed windpipe. Eliot went down as well; he had lost his balance and fell to one knee. Head bowed, he gulped in deep breaths to quell the nausea as it rose again.

"Talk to me people!" Nate demanded. There had been a short burst of silence over the comms after Sophie's scream. Then he heard Sophie squeak, Hardison gasp, and Eliot grunt. Then nothing. This was driving him crazy. "What's going on?!"

Sophie got her voice back first. "Eliot…he...hit...he's…down." Her voice was barely a whisper; she was still trying to process what she'd seen.

"Who? Eliot or one of the others?" Too many pronouns made for garbled communication. "Parker. Get in there and help them."

Clearing his throat, Hardison answered for them all. "Eliot took the guy down. I think he's…dead."

"Be quiet while I see if anyone else is out there," Eliot muttered as he stood and sidled out of the room.

There was no one in the front room. He jerked against the wall as the door opened but it was only Parker.

"Eliot's a mess." Parker was her usual tactless self. Settling for a glare rather than a retort, he turned around as she pulled out her own knife and snapped the bindings holding his wrists.

The blood rushing back to his hands was agony. Shaking his hands to try and restore circulation faster, he pointed. "The others are in there." Parker went to cut them loose while Eliot followed her. Grabbing the dead man by the heels, he pulled him to one side against the wall. He rifled through the man's pockets and collected everything that he found. Not much to go on. Standing, Hardison and Sophie gave Eliot a wide berth as they stepped around where he crouched next to the dead man.

"Nate? What now?" Sophie wanted to get out of there and fast. She glanced at Hardison. He was staring down at the dead man. He looked to be in shock. When Eliot stood, Hardison jerked and took a step back.

"Everyone, grab what you can and come down the back stairs. Now, Sophie, do **not **argue with me; you can always buy more shoes," he interrupted her complaints. "Five minutes people. I'll have the car by the outside door."

Going into the west bedroom, Eliot threw what he'd taken off the dead man into his own duffle. He didn't have to pack anything since he never unpacked. Pulling on his black leather jacket over the now-stained grey t-shirt he was wearing, he tossed the few items of Nate's from the drawers into Nate's bag then had to stop. "Hardison!"

Hardison leaned around the doorjam. Eliot was bracing himself with both arms against the chest of drawers. He turned his head to look at Hardison who refused to meet his eyes. There was something off with him but Eliot didn't have the energy to figure out what it was. "Carry Nate's bag, will ya?" He didn't realize how bad he looked with his hair matted with sweat and blood. Hardison edged past the hitter to grab Nate's bag and followed him out. His own bag was by the door already. Parker was pulling Sophie's arm as she protested weakly about the things she was leaving behind.

"Wait." Eliot stopped the others as he opened the door first and eased through. Not spotting anyone lurking in the hallway, he motioned the others to follow him out. They headed down the hallway towards the stairwell.

Eliot could feel Hardison watching him. He was beginning to get a clue about what it was that was bugging the man. Eliot doubted he'd ever seen anyone die right in front of him. Well, he just couldn't deal with that right now. He could feel his ribs grinding as he descended the stairs behind the rest. Eliot's steps began to lag as the adrenaline finally left his system. He leaned on the wall as he descended the last few stairs. Breathing shallowly, Eliot made it to the door.

Parker was holding the door open for him. The others had already reached the car, tossed their bags into the trunk, and were climbing in. Parker followed behind Eliot, worried. She'd never seen him this shaky. Wordlessly, she took his bag and tossed hers and his into the trunk before slamming it shut. Eliot insisted she get into the car first, as usual, and climbed slowly in himself. His lips were pressed tightly together. He tried to push back the pain again but it wasn't working any more.

When the last door was shut, Nate floored the gas pedal. Time to leave. The others began to relax a bit. Hardison stared at the back of Nate's head lost in contemplation of something. Sophie loudly lamented the loss of a pair of Manolo Blahniks that she had been forced to leave behind. Eliot shut his eyes to shut out the spots that had begun to fill his vision again. Leaning his head back against the seat, he slowly allowed his body to relax. He dropped off into unconsciousness without a struggle.

Nate glanced in the rear-view at his team. Hardison looked like he wanted to say something but wasn't quite sure what it was. Parker looked like…Parker; inscrutable as usual. Eliot looked... Nate did a double take. "Eliot," he barked out. When the man didn't respond, "Parker, check him."

Turning slightly, Parker shook Eliot's shoulder. He was limp. She turned her head to meet Nate's eyes in the mirror. Nate changed direction. He was taking Eliot to the nearest hospital.

Realizing something was wrong, Sophie turned completely around. Kneeling on the seat, she reached back and felt his throat. "His pulse is strong." She placed a hand on one cheek and gently shoved his head. Without any resistance, his head lolled to one side. "He's unconscious, Nate."

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_TBC_

_Please let me know what you thought about this chapter. I hope this chapter kept your interest. More will come. It's going to be a long story._


	3. Chapter 3

That's What I Do

Chapter 3

_A/N: I own nothing from TNT's world of Leverage and make nothing off of this story other than the satisfaction of writing it._

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Eliot came to in a cold room. The sounds and smells of a hospital clued him in to his location. He listened but didn't hear any police radio chatter. His eyes snapped open. Memory caught up to him and he relaxed a bit. He moved his arms slightly to make sure there were no cuffs restraining him. He was free. That was a good sign. Lifting his head, Eliot saw that a curtain had been drawn around his bed, and he caught the sound of someone moaning in agony on the other side. Other voices were speaking in medical jargon and mentioned that the motorcyclist had lost a battle with a truck.

Self-assessing, Eliot was pleased to note that the nausea was gone. His head still hurt enough that an injudicious movement caused a sharp pain that blinded him but at least he wouldn't spew. Again. That had been embarrassing. Deciding against sitting directly upright, Eliot rolled onto his right side and levered himself up with a braced arm. He took his time as he reminded himself he'd felt worse during numerous other awakenings. Much worse. Slumped at the edge of the bed, Eliot was preparing to jump down and onto his own two feet when the curtain was jerked aside perfunctorily and a man with a doctor's coat walked into his space.

"And you're going where?" The young intern was surprised to find his patient upright. True, the skull X-rays had shown no major damage or internal bleeding but his patient did have a skull fracture and three broken ribs. "You can't leave. We're admitting you for overnight observation._" _It had been a long night and he needed to get some sleep. Dealing with a beligerent patient had not been on his agenda this late in his shift.

"Not happening. I'm outta here." The determined look on Eliot's face showed his intentions plainly enough.

Not wanting to have to fight the man, Dr. Tipton tried to reason with him first. He had no idea who he was up against. "Before you do anything, how about letting us clean up and stitch that head wound?"

Reaching up to feel the wound on his head, Eliot thought for a second and agreed. It would be really hard for him to take care of it himself since he couldn't see it except in a mirror. He wasn't sure how squeamish the others would be if he asked their help. "Fine." Actually, he could make a pretty accurate guess at their individual responses to such a request. He sighed.

Motioning the silent nurse behind him over, the intern left to speak to his patient's brother. Hopefully Tom could convince Mark to stay overnight. Taking Eliot's chart and films with him, he went to go enlist his aid.

The waiting room was crowded but when he called out for Mark Baker, four people turned and headed towards him. "Tom Baker?"

The older man nodded and spoke, "These are friends. You can speak in front of them."

"Come with me." Doctor Tipton led them into a small room where he jabbed several X-rays into the clips of the light box and turned it on. He pointed first at the series of head X-rays. "There is a hairline fracture at the temporal lobe but we found no evidence of inter-cranial bleeding. And here," as he switched the films, "he's got three broken ribs in the left upper thorasic and two cracked in the lower left thorasic region." He sighed, a bit confused. "What exactly does your brother do for a living?"

"Why?" Nate could figure out where this was going. A person would have to be blind to not see all the lines of old fractures and breaks on the films. "He worked as a stuntman for a while; he's retired now."

"If he's retired, what happened?"

Sophie was primed. "We had all gone out to eat. Mark was walking me to my car when we were mugged. One of them had a nightstick and hit him. When he was down on the ground, they started kicking him. I screamed and then," she waved expansively at the others," Tom and Rick and Mary ran up and scared them off. I guess we were too many. Anyway, Mark passed out in the car as we brought him here."

Something still wasn't making sense but the intern wasn't interested in their story. It was for the police to handle the assault report. "I need your help," he said turning towards Tom. "Your brother is trying to check himself out and leave."

"I thought you said that he was okay." A fist clenched around Nate's heart. He'd begun to relax but now the doctor had caused that fist to tighten again; Eliot was a member of _his_ team who had been hurt while doing what _he_ planned and apparently this was not something that a few stitches or bandages or ice pack could patch up.

Patting the air with placating hands, Dr. Tipton assured the circle of worried people that yes, Mark would be all right with rest. "Yes, he should. But head injuries can be tricky. He needs to be watched. Please," he said taking Nate by the elbow, "come with me and help me convince him he needs to stay."

Both men heard Eliot before they saw him. "Get those away from me. You're not touching me with those."

Exchanging puzzled glances, the two sped up and walked around the curtain. Eliot was holding the nurse's arm immobile. In her hand was a pair of scissors. "I need to remove all hair from around the wound so that I can stitch it," she said primly.

"No way!" Eliot pushed her back and moved to jump off the bed.

"Hold on," Nate said holding out one hand and placing it against Eliot's shoulder. Turning to the intern he said, "Give us a minute?"

Once they were alone, he rounded on Eliot. "What are you trying to do? Cause a scene? Just let them…"

Eliot cut him off. "She ain't cutting my hair!" Narrowing his eyes at Nate, he continued. "It's not vanity. Think. All the muscle you've seen, what do they look like? What do they have in common?"

Seeing that Eliot was serious, Nate thought about it. Big bruisers. Serious. Brainless…it clicked. "Military haircuts."

"Yeah. I had short hair when I first started but then I realized it made me stand out in certain countries and in certain situations. People don't expect someone like me to have long hair. I've gotten safely through checkpoints, I think, _because_ I look like a cowboy or biker rather than a hitter."

Finally understanding a bit more about Eliot, Nate had to agree. "But you need to get that stitched just the same. It's still bleeding."

"Fine. You trim the hair around the cut. But just enough so it can be stitched up."

"Whoa. I am not going to stitch you." Nate remembered Eliot's gloved hands, bloody, working on the gunshot wound he himself had received. He so did not want to have to do the same thing.

Eliot huffed. "I'm not asking for that." Nate would take forever anyways and besides, he might mess up the stitches. "Just cut the hair. Let Nurse Ratched do the stitching then we're outta here."

"That's the other thing. The doctor says you need to stay for observation."

"No." Eliot was adamant. Seeing that Nate wasn't getting the point, he spelled it out. "Those guys know I was hurt. I kinda left some clues behind." He was sure that if they checked the bedroom, they'd see the blood and vomit on the carpet. "This is the nearest hospital right?" At Nate's nod, he continued. "They'll come right here. And I'll be trapped." Eliot wouldn't really be trapped but there were civilians here who might get in the way and get hurt. "Look. I know what symptoms the nurses will be looking for. I just need one of you to help me." Eliot's blue gaze was clear and Nate felt he had to believe the man. Surely Eliot knew what he was doing. For years, Nate had heard about this retrieval specialist who ended up in dangerous situations again and again but always seemed to escape. Somehow. There had been that Turkish prison; Eliot had been off the grid for several months with that one…but he _was_ here, standing, so to speak. Shaking his head to bring his wandering thoughts back to the moment, Nate weighed all the facts. While he knew Eliot hated to show any weakness, he also knew the man wasn't an idiot. If he thought he could watch out for himself or that he could be okay with them to help him, then he could.

"Alright. What do we do?"

"Get the doc back in here. Then get those scissors from that…that…woman and cut my hair."

Nate went to the door and called out to Doctor Tipton. "He wants to talk to you." Turning to the nurse, he held his hand out for the scissors. "Allow me." Smiling as disarmingly as he could, he asked for some tape as well. Turning around, he went back inside the curtained alcove and had to hide a smile. Eliot had made his way to a full upright position and had his arms crossed across his chest. A truculent expression was on his face. The doctor didn't have a chance.

"Give me the AMA papers."

Doctor Tipton was stumped. His patient was an adult, he seemed lucid and coherent, and he passed the reflex tests. He had someone to drive him home. And he apparently knew about the _against medical advice_ papers that would discharge him but keep the hospital from being sued if something happened. Turning to glare at Nate, Dr. Tipton said, "Will you be keeping an eye on him for the next 48 hours?"

"One of us will," Nate explained. He wasn't sure how Eliot would handle being _watched_ by Parker or Hardison but if he wanted out of here that was a condition.

"You'd better. If he starts hemorrhaging, you have to realize it quickly and get him to a hospital immediately." At Nate's nod, he continued giving instructions about what to keep an eye out for. Finished with his lecture, he glared at the two men for a moment. Didn't either realize how dangerous a blow to the head could be? "I'll go get the paperwork but this is definitely against my advice. But he's not leaving until that head wound is stitched." He jerked the curtain closed behind him since there was no door to slam.

Facing Eliot, Nate tried to figure out how best to proceed. The nurse had washed off the dried blood while he'd been unconscious so it was just a matter of separating the strands of hair and trimming some of them. "Sit still," Nate sighed.

Eyes rolling, Eliot tried to decide if Nate was testing him. Did Nate think he was going to complain and flinch as he himself had done when being stitched after being shot? Really, these people did _not_ understand him.

Nate tore off several strips of tape and told Eliot to hold them. Using the edges of the scissors, Nate separated the hair that was horizontal to the wound and pulled them up and over Eliot's head. He used the tape to keep it from falling back down. Next, he separated the sections of hair that were directly over, on, or below the wound straight out from the side of Eliot's head and cut them as close to the scalp as he could. "That should do it," he said. Going to the curtain, he got the nurse's attention. "You should be able to stitch it now."

It had been a long day for Nurse Kitka, and she was irritated with this patient. Setting up her suturing kit, she looked at the wound. The vanity of some people. At least now there was enough hair missing that she could see to stitch the wound closed. She was in such a hurry that it wasn't until after several stitches had been made that she realized that she had not injected any Lidocaine at the site. Yet her patient hadn't flinched or moved or indicated any discomfort at all. Huh. She looked to make sure he was conscious. Ice blue eyes met hers, narrowed, and glared. She quickly finished the job. While she cleaned up the debris, she addressed the older man standing by the bed. "You'll need to make sure that the wound is kept dry and that if you notice any signs of infection that you take him to a doctor immediately. Of course, with all this hair in the way, you probably won't notice if it reddens."

"Thank you, nurse." Nate said. He could see that Eliot was getting frustrated and would say something soon that even if _he _didn't regret it, Nate would. Looking intently at Eliot, Nate had to hide a smile. With his hair piled up on the top of his head and sticking out in all directions while below the wound it hung was damp and straggly, he had to admit that Eliot looked rather comical. But that internal laugh died quickly. Eliot had been hurt and badly. It was not a laughing matter. Eliot reached up to pull off the tape but Nate batted his hands away and removed the pieces himself. Eliot slid off the bed to the floor. He held onto the edge for a moment until he was sure his legs were steady under him. "Let's go," he muttered.

"Not so fast cowboy. You still need to sign the paperwork. And then I'm sure the cops will want an incident report as well." Both men had forgotten the presence of the nurse.

_Not with Hardison erasing any files that existed._ Putting his finger to his ear, Nate whispered, "Hardison?"

He'd already asked the hacker to delete anything related to Eliot as soon as it was put into the system. Since it took a while for cops to respond, they would not even know the report had been called in before it vanished. "Give me about five more minutes, Nate, and then I'm done. There won't be any record of an assault at all."

"Good. Once you're done with that, go get the car. Keep an eye out for anyone suspicious. They might be looking for us."

Nate had also instructed Sophie to take care of all the payments using the company's insurance while Parker was lifting the charts and films.

When Eliot and Nate came into the waiting room, neither woman was exactly sure about how they felt about Eliot and all that he'd gone through. Sophie was especially wary. She'd seen Eliot taken down directly in front of her because of her. If there had been no gun to her head, she was certain Eliot would have ruled the battlefield. Hardison had told them about Eliot taking down four guards in just a few second when they'd first started working together. She knew Eliot was a great fighter and was dismayed to find out how much she had depended on him to get them out. She'd been terrified waiting for him to regain consciousness.

Parker, as usual, put her foot in her mouth when she saw Eliot. "So, Sparky, what's going to be your next trick?" Sophie smacked her on the arm. "Owww. What'd I do?" Parker looked back at Eliot who definitely looked the worse for wear. "What?" she asked no one in particular.

Eliot closed his eyes and just shook his head slightly. Trust Parker to react the same. For someone reputed to be insane, she was the most predictable of the bunch in certain situations. It gave him a bit of odd comfort.

"Are you okay?" asked the dark-haired woman. Sophie wasn't sure in her own mind if she was asking about his health or his mental composure after killing a man. His job did entail hurting people but she wasn't sure how much of that involved killing people. Did such a deed even affect him any more? She was confused and knew this was not over in her own thoughts at all.

Eliot was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. Without even cracking his eyes open, he replied, "I'm fine." He relished the slight breeze each time the doors opened and closed.

"Car's here," Parker chirped as she headed out the automatic doors of the ER when Hardison pulled up.

"Eliot?" Gripping the man lightly by the elbow, Sophie tugged him towards the car. Unresisting, Eliot allowed himself to be led. Normally he would have shrugged off her touch but he could sense she was leery around him, and he didn't want to make her any more nervous. They were a team of sorts and one didn't treat team members the way one did overbearing hospital personnel. Sophie opened the front door of the car and motioned him to climb in. It was normally her spot but she felt he would want a bit more space than the back seat would give him.

Lips twitching in a small smile of thanks, Eliot sank down into the car. His ribs definitely thanked her. He could almost relax. He would once they were in some new hotel. He didn't close his eyes; instead he watched the side mirror to see if anyone was tailing them. He had to squint a bit since he didn't have his glasses. He couldn't spot anyone during the entire trip; they should be safe for the night. He hoped.

While at the hospital, Nate had thought about splitting the team up for the night. But on second thought, he wasn't sure if those others knew how many the team numbered. They had only seen Eliot, Sophie, and Hardison. So maybe they would only be looking for three and not five. He was divided. What finally decided him was the need to monitor Eliot. They could each take shorter shifts and still get some rest themselves.

"Hardison, do we have everything we need?"

"Well, I got all the data I could pull and Parker got those files from Macias' place. I won't know until I get a chance to look things over though."

"Where is the hotel we're staying at tonight?" Nate followed Haridson's directions hoping the hotel was close so that they could all rest soon. Trying not to be obvious, Nate watched Eliot out of the corner of his eye. The younger man had scooted down in his seat and was resting his head against the seat back. His eyes were focused out the side window, and his brow was furrowed. Whether it was pain or something else, Nate didn't want to ask in front of the others. Streetlights flickered across Eliot's face, darkening then lightening his features. Nate thought Eliot himself was reflected in that pattern. The man himself was both light and dark. He was straightforward with admitting that his skills lay with his fighting prowess. But the motives behind such a career path were unknown. There was definitely more dark than light inside Eliot. Nate had hoped that the team could balance that dichotomy a bit. But with what had happened tonight, he wasn't so sure. Seeing Eliot kill someone, even if that someone had been trying to kill them, would surely affect Sophie and Hardison. How much and in what manner only time would tell. He drove on through the darkness.

Opening the door to the room, Nate switched on the lights and dropped their two bags by the door. He gestured towards the two beds allowing Eliot to pick the one he wanted.

Eliot was running out of energy. He sank down on bed nearest the bathroom. He didn't think he'd get nauseous again, but then he might. If he did, he hoped he'd have enough warning to actually make it there. _If _he could even move. His overextended muscles were cramping and his overtired body was shutting down. Past experience told him it would be very hard for him to move tomorrow.

Nate broke into Eliot's musings. "So what _do_ we look for?" At Eliot's quizzical glance, he continued. "Warning signs that we need to get to back to a hospital. Dr. Tipton mentioned things but what do _you_ want us to assess?"

"Oh." He was pleased that Nate trusted him enough to decide what he wanted help with observing. "You'll need to wake me up about every hour. Get me to talk. Check for slurred speech; make sure I can actually complete a coherent thought. See if I'm dizzy. I'll have to sit up to check that." There was no way he would climb to his feet that many times. If they thought he was grouchy normally, heaven help them over the next couple of days. He'd have to keep a check on himself to make sure he didn't truly alienate any of them too much. He surprised himself. Since when did he ever care what others thought about him? Not since he left home that last time he figured. Thinking, Eliot wondered. Could he trust Nate to stay sober long enough to keep an eye on him? "You watching all night or tagging off with the others?" He hoped at least if Nate did drink and drink too much, his relief would take over before it affected him too much.

"I've got it for the next four hours then Parker said she'd come in."

Eliot rolled his eyes. "Make sure she knows that I need some sleep. That I don't want to chat when she wakes me up." He huffed at the thought.

Cracking a smile for the first time in many hours, Nate assured the younger man he would. "Go to sleep." He watched as Eliot toed off his shoes and slowly settled back onto the bed. He started to roll to one side but his body apparently had other ideas so he lay flat on his back and closed his eyes. His face relaxed, and Nate knew he was asleep. Nate wondered if he should turn off the light but it didn't seem to be disturbing Eliot any. Of course, the man could, and probably had, slept anywhere. Setting his phone for an hour, Nate settled back to figure out their next move.

* * *

_TBC_

_I'd love to know what you thought about this chapter. More will be coming soon. I'm updating about once a week and have many chapters to go._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_A/N: I own no rights to Dean Devlin, John Rogers, or Chris Downey's world of Leverage. I'm just borrowing the characters. Sorry it took longer to update than I planned. _

* * *

It was time to wake the dragon again. Nate stood close to the wall; it should put him out of reach of Eliot's fist. This time he was prepared; he hoped. "Eliot." Nate's voice was pitched to break through the sleep that had engulfed the wounded man. He wasn't going to try to shake him awake again. His cheek still stung from the last time. A bit louder, "Eliot."

Eliot jerked awake. The light from the bathroom had been turned on so the form standing beside him was easily identifiable as Nate's. Eliot reached up to grasp Nate's proffered hand to pull himself upright. He ran a series of his own diagnostics while answering Nate's questions. "What time is it?" muttered Eliot. It was obviously late but Eliot wasn't sure just how late. His internal clock had been screwed up. He had his own timeline on how long they should stay in one place after their escape. He would insist they relocate when his countdown stopped.

"It's about 4 a.m." Nate's eyes were burning. He'd not closed them; he was worried about Eliot though he didn't want to show it. "Go back to sleep."

Eliot didn't refuse Nate's arm helping him back down. He needed it; his ribs were on fire and his muscles had stiffened tremendously.

Nate snorted. Worn out, Eliot was already asleep. Nate went to the window and pulled back the curtains to scan the back parking lot below. They didn't think that they'd been followed, but Eliot was worried and that made him worried. Letting the curtain drop, Nate thought about the plans he'd roughed out. He'd pick their new course of action once Hardison identified their attackers. Nothing to do but wait another hour. Nate sat down at the table illuminated by lamplight, opened his sudoku book, and began the next puzzle.

When Parker knocked softly on the door, Nate opened it after looking through the peephole and then removing the chain. Briefing the blond thief about Eliot's instructions and a warning about how to wake him, Nate shut the door behind him. He waited until he heard the chain slide into place again then headed down the hallway to the other room they'd rented. Nate had hated to split them up but he'd wanted Eliot to have complete silence to rest. Hopefully, Sophie and Hardison had decided to sleep.

Using the key card Parker had handed him, Nate eased the door open so as not to disturb them. The light from his computer screen illuminated Hardison's face where he sat at the table. "If you're playing one of your games…" Nate's implied threat was left hanging.

"No, man. I'm going through Macias' files. I'm still trying to figure out where the money went. I've got his bank codes, so I'm using them to backtrack money transfers." He stared at his screen not looking up as he spoke to Nate nor did he ask any questions.

Nate watched Alec and decided to cut him some slack. The man was exhausted and he was often monofocused when on the computer. "Eliot seems okay so far."

Hardison jerked a bit in his chair. "Oh….okay. That's…good."

Nate was confused. The hitter and the hacker had seemed to be building a quasi-friendship, and he would have thought that Hardison would be more…_pleased_…he guessed was the word he was looking for, at the news. Instead, Hardison seemed to be uncomfortable with something. But Nate was too tired to try and figure it out at the moment. "Are you going to crash?"

"Nah, man. I've got some more things to do. You take the bed." Hardison took a big swig of orange soda. He could almost feel the sugar flowing through his veins. Popping his head to both sides, he flexed his fingers above the keyboard and dove into the files once again.

Nate dug into his bag to find his sweat pants. Going into the bathroom, he switched on the light after he shut the door. Leaning on the sink, Nate stared at his face in the harsh light. He didn't like what he saw. Deeply graven lines cut down his face, lines reflecting past pain and present. The sounds of the abuse being heaped on the others and the fear and pain in their voices still played inside his head. He had been helpless to help them. They had all become so dependent on Eliot for their safety that when he'd been taken down, it had destroyed their balance. Only the fact that Eliot was extremely resilient and stubborn had saved them. Truth to tell, Nate wasn't sure that he and Parker_ could_ have rescued the others.

God. He needed a drink. He'd come so close to losing all three of them… And it would be his fault. His fault that he hadn't ordered Hardison to check closer, to search deeper, to see what Nate himself had missed. Hanging his head down, Nate took a deep breath. He would have to be sure that they were all alright, both physically and mentally. He needed to see what was up with Hardison, to see if Sophie was going to be okay, to see that Eliot was recovering like he should. Nate made a mental note to observe Eliot and not just take him at his word. The man was stubborn about revealing anything personal especially any weaknesses.

Going back into the room, he saw that Sophie was lying on the bed closest to the wall so he took the other. Pulling the covers over his head to block out the glow from Hardison's screen, Nate dropped off into sleep.

***

When Nate opened his eyes, he thought it was still early morning. It was only when he pulled back the curtains to be blinded by the bright sunlight that he realized how late it really was. Turning back towards the room, his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness within. Hardison was gone. Parker's tousled blond hair was barely visible on the other bed's pillows. Nate looked at his watch with a start. He'd been asleep for about five hours.

Shaking his head, he decided that a shower was in order. It helped to clear his head. Dressed, Nate packed his meager belongings and left his bag by the door. Closing it gently behind him, he headed down the hall to the other room. Knocking softly, it took a while before it opened and he saw Sophie's face. Entering, he saw that Eliot was still asleep. "How's Eliot doing?" he said, jutting his chin towards the still figure.

"He seems fine. I haven't had to wake him yet; Parked just switched with me." Sophie smiled. "Parker said Eliot was fine but that he kept growling at her. But that's normal for him so she figured he was okay."

"She did remember to not…"

"I'm sure she did, Nate, Parker…looks at things differently…but she's not stupid." Sophie had been about to say _has strong sense of self-preservation _but that wasn't true. If she had that, she'd not do the things she did with a rope on tall buildings.

Nate sighed. He pictured Parker being chirpy or whatever and Eliot saying something he might regret. _Might_. Just maybe. Of course, Parker ignored all the things Eliot said to her anyways so maybe he shouldn't be so worried about her.

Nate realized that they were alone. "Where's Hardison?"

"He went for lunch."

"Did he sleep at all?"

"Yes, when Parker woke me up, he was asleep on the floor. He came by a bit ago to tell me he was going to find us something to eat."

It must have been the closing door that had woken Nate. The two friends settled down at the table. Nate knew he could run his ideas past her. It would pass the time, and she could poke holes in his thoughts and plans. "What did we miss? Where is Macias sending the money? Nothing we read said he had goons. When did that start?"

"I know they're not ex-military." Eliot's voice ground out behind them. "They made too many stupid mistakes."

Turning, Nate and Sophie saw that Eliot had dragged himself upright and was sitting slumped on the side of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" Sophie moved towards Eliot slowly and stood a distance away.

Eliot noticed it, and it caused a pang. She was staying out of reach. She knew in her bones now what he could do. And it scared her. Eliot observed the two from behind a curtain of hair. He was a little surprised that Nate seemed clearheaded. He must not have gotten drunk last night. Eliot had thought that Nate would hit the bottle once his job of watching Eliot was done. Although the man had claimed they were not friends, Eliot had observed him enough to know that Nate must have felt extraordinarily guilty about how sideways the job had gone. He had probably felt the stitches being placed more than Eliot had. Speaking of which, Eliot reached up and touched the side of his head. They itched. A good sign. Feeling gingerly around the wound, he was pleased that it didn't feel overly tender or hot. No infection. One less problem to deal with. Now came the fun part. Standing up. Bracing his abs, Eliot used the bedside table to pull himself up.

Sophie backed away a step. She'd never seen Eliot move that slowly or seem to be in that much pain. The facial bruising he'd sported from the bar fight before they'd left for Bosnia was the worst she'd seen him deal with. He'd healed really fast then; a few days and no bruising. She prayed he'd recover equally well now. It hurt her to seem him hurting. If she'd not had a gun on her, Eliot could have taken all those guys down and he wouldn't have had to kill that man and they wouldn't be hiding out and she wouldn't be so scared they'd find them again. _Get a grip on yourself,_ she told herself sternly. She realized she was babbling in her head as much as Hardison normally did out loud.

She clutched her arms around herself. She could still hear the crunch as Eliot struck the man whose gasps had ended quickly. Violence was not a regular part of her life. Sure, she'd carried a gun at times. Yes, she'd shot Nate who then shot her but neither had fired to kill. That was different. Wasn't it? No, she had to admit it wasn't. She had shot Nate so she wouldn't get caught. Eliot had killed that man so they could go free. If he'd shown any mercy, tied up as they had been, they might not have escaped. They might even have been dead by now. Eliot had done the only thing he could have done. A small smile crossed her lips. Eliot was still the same man she'd known last week. That hadn't changed. Just her perception and wasn't that what they all dealt with: perception?

Ignoring Sophie standing lost in her thoughts, Nate went over to Eliot. "Can I help?"

Wanting to refuse but realizing the reality, Eliot said, "Yeah, grab some clothes out of my bag will ya?" He stepped towards the bathroom wincing as his right hip gave a twinge. He'd hit in on something going down the hill. The rest of his lower body was relatively pain free. It was his torso that was protesting loudly. He sighed and gritted his teeth.

Reaching back over his head, he grasped his shirt collar and pulled. That shirt was probably trashed. He wasn't sure if the bloodstains would come out. Not that it mattered. He'd reached the bathroom by then. He didn't want Sophie to see the bruising he knew would be there. Yep. Looking at himself in the mirror, he had some spectacular ones. He looked great in blue but this was ridiculous. Leaning closer, he checked his pupils. Neither one was blown so he seemed to be recovering from the concussion.

Nate winced when confronted with Eliot's bare back. One bruise was distinctively caused by a boot. He could almost see the tread pattern within the bruising. Yet if he hadn't passed out in the car, there would have been no way they could have gotten him to a hospital. During his years with IYS, he'd heard about, read about this man who got in horrible scrapes yet escaped. He had no clue how many times Eliot had needed a hospital. Nate figured Eliot took care of himself a lot. His familiarity with stitches, their placement, knotting them so they would stay knotted, and removing them when Nate had been shot had proven that. He felt saddened. What a life Eliot must have lived.

Eliot's eyes met Nate's via the mirror. Nate met the challenge in the blank face. He knew Eliot would accept no pity from him or any of them and Nate would accede to his wish. He had enough skeletons in his own closet that he understood the need for privacy. That was why Eliot had asked for his help.

"Anything else?"

"I'll need help re-wrapping my ribs when I'm done with a shower."

"Let me know." Nate left Eliot alone. If the man said that was the only help he needed, Nate would believe him. He really didn't think Eliot'd pass out again. He shut the door behind him and headed out into the room.

A knock on the door caused Sophie to start and make an inadvertent sound. Going to the door and looking through the peephole, Nate smiled at the sight of Hardison and Parker carrying bags and coffee cups. It was a good thing it was them. He shuddered at the thought of Eliot trying to fight as he was right now. He scrubbed his face with his hands as he opened the door.

The four settled down at the table and divided up the meal. A fifth place was set aside for Eliot.

After shoving half a burrito down his throat, Hardison took a gulp of coffee. "I think I found what we-_I_-missed," he said shamefully. "I didn't go into the most recent of Macias' accounts. Macias got a partner about two weeks ago. A silent partner who takes a big percentage." He sighed. They were not going to like this. "I think Macias pissed off the wrong person. I think those guys we who attacked us are into drugs."

"Gangs or cartel?" Eliot said behind them. He padded barefoot into the room. He'd overheard Hardison talking and pulled on jeans and a shirt to come out to hear the rest. At the table he pulled out his chair and eased down. Clenching his hands into fists, he wondered if anyone else had noticed how Hardison had shifted his chair away as Eliot sat down next to him. Dammit. Picking up his coffee, Eliot hid a grimace as he took a sip. He was surprised at how much that rejection had hurt. Eliot had lived inside his own head most of his adult life. It had become a dark place to live. Although he didn't share many of his thoughts with the crew, he had been able to blow off steam with them. He had a place to relax where he didn't have to watch his back. _Had _seemed to be the operative word. If he now scared the others, he couldn't relax around them. He'd have them jumping which would make him irritable which defeated the whole purpose of relaxing.

Eliot didn't realize that his thoughts were so transparent. Normally he had a great poker face. Nate wished Hardison had done a better job of controlling his reactions. Didn't he realize that Eliot had made the only choice he could for all their sakes? Nate had been trying to draw the young fighter into the group and had felt like he was making progress. Now they were back to square one.

"Gangs? Cartel?" Eliot reminded them of what Hardison had just said. "What are we looking at? Local? National? International? What?"

Shifting his laptop screen a bit, Hardison read out loud what he'd found out. "Local cartel. It seems a really small operation just getting started. Macias stole from some guy connected to this Avalos dude…and he got caught. But instead of killing him, Avalos decided to take in a portion of his business. So now this Avalos has a controlling interest. That's where the money is going. Avalos' account."

"So where does this guy live?" asked Nate. "He's local. So were those his guys that broke into the hotel room? How did they find us?"

"I would guess that they followed us from Sophie's meeting. Maybe they saw Eliot beating up Macias' guys. I don't know. All I know is that we've pissed off this dude and apparently he's not someone to piss off."

"How connected is Avalos?" asked Eliot. "Is he the boss man or lower down on the rung?"

"He seems to be the boss but like I said, it's a young cartel. I need some time to make sure but I really think it's just these few guys."

Eliot snorted but Nate interrupted him before he could say anything at all. "Hardison. I want you to be positive about his connections. We cannot go against big organized crime. The last time we did, we barely succeeded. We only were able to take Masconi down 'cause the FBI was watching him too."

"Give me a bit then, okay?" Hardison knew how important it was for him to dig deep and find all the dirt he could. He so did not want to get on the wrong side of the mob. His neck started to ache and he stopped typing to try to figure out why he was so tense. Then Eliot shifted, and he jumped a bit. He kept his eyes on his hands, but he could sense the others looking at him. He was not going to look at any of them. He realized Eliot was scaring the crap out of him.

Parker was oblivious to the undercurrents running through the room. She just inhaled her burrito and tossed the wrapper onto the table. Picking up her coffee again, she stood up. She was hyper; she needed to get out. Spinning around, she faced the others. "I'm going out. I'll be back in a bit." She grasped the doorknob in one hand.

"No, wait, Parker; we don't know how safe we are here. You can't be seen on the street." Nate half-rose from his chair to stop the thief.

"Who said anything about the street?" Finishing her coffee, Parker left the room and headed up the stairs to the roof. She was going to get some fresh air topside.

Sophie shook her head slightly and looked at Nate. He had a bemused look on his face like he wasn't sure if he wanted to smile or not. He sat down again. He saw that Eliot was done eating and was just staring into space while slowly sipping his coffee.

Eliot was running scenarios through his head and in each one the only option had been for him to take his opponent down permanently. He'd always prided himself on using only the amount of force needed in a fight. That's why he always ejected the clips from the guns he took. It equaled out the playing field a bit since he didn't carry a gun. But the amount of force he had needed last night had been deadly force. With his own hands bound, he had only one chance to strike the man down so that he stayed down. So that he couldn't get up and kill him or the others. But now he was a killer in the eyes of the others. Could they ever see him otherwise now? Did he still want them to? Did…"

"Eliot." Nate's voice broke through Eliot's thoughts about the fight. When the hitter looked up, Nate continued. "Do you want to wrap your ribs now?"

The question seemed to not be what Eliot was expecting and it took him a second to respond. "Yeah." Turning away from Hardison, Eliot used the table and the back of his chair to help him stand. The hot shower had done a lot of good and his muscles weren't so tight. He led the way towards the bathroom followed by Nate.

Left alone with Hardison, Sophie wondered if now was the time to point out to him how rude he was being. Eliot had saved all their lives. He had chosen to kill not for fun, not for torment, but for need. She didn't like it but she liked it more than still being tied up in that chair…or worse. She opened her mouth to speak but the sounds of conversation from the bathroom carried and she knew any words she said would carry back there. She decided to wait until they were alone before she broached the subject with the young hacker.

Hardison had closed out the room around him. There was nothing but his screen and the lines of data scrolling across it. He was determined to track down this Avalos and all of his dealings and information that he could track down. There would be no more mistakes on his part. He had failed to discover that Macias had been caught by Avalos prior to their job and it was _his_ fault they'd been caught. He kept expecting Eliot to turn on him for not doing his job and he had to admit to himself, he deserved it. Eliot had killed the guy but if Hardison had done his job, Eliot would not have had to. He swallowed hard, shut his eyes, and kept on checking data.

Returning to the room, Eliot sat down in the chair Parker had left. It put him closer to Sophie but she didn't seem so nervous around him. "How are you?" he asked. What she'd been through had been tough but he had no clue to how she was coping. She might be a horrible actress on stage but in life, she was solid. When they'd all played poker that time at the office, the only one he could read was Hardison. It had made for a real challenging game. He'd enjoyed that evening.

Smiling slightly, Sophie turned towards Eliot. "I'm fine thanks to you. I know…well actually I don't know…but killing that man must have been a hard choice."

Deciding to give her the unvarnished truth, Eliot said, "No. It was easy. The choice was us or him. Not much debating there."

Nodding her head, she said, "But I think you feel his death even now. It wasn't a casual act. You didn't dither about it but you regret having to make it."

Stunned by her insight, Eliot couldn't say anything. He'd always been afraid that one day he would cross the line into cruelty and complete indifference. He debriefed himself after every job to justify his actions to himself. Sometimes he'd made the wrong choices and he'd berated himself for them and planned never to repeat them. Yes, he'd killed and he would probably kill again. But he'd never be callous about it. Death was permanent.

Her smile widened. They kept forgetting that her _thing_ was reading people. And she was pleased at what she'd read off of Eliot. Yes, she'd been a bit nervous around him at first but his regret was visible to her and that helped her regain her former comfort level around him.

Nate watched the two of them come to some kind of silent accord. There would be no need for him to intervene between those two. That left only Hardison. Maybe Sophie could help him with this. After they finished the job.

"Hardison? Anything?"

"Give me…" Hardison reached into the bag at his foot and pulled out an orange soda. "I need for one more check to come in and…Here it is." Heaving a sigh, Hardison turned to the others. "We gonna get Parker in here?" He took a swig from the now opened bottle.

Reaching a finger up to his comm, Nate called, "Parker? Where are you?" He hoped she'd put hers back in.

"Above you. What's up? Besides me…" she snorted at her own wit.

"Hardison's got what we need. Get down here."

"On my way."

Turning to the others, Nate cocked his head to one side. "She's on her way."

"Well, at least she has to come down the stairs…" Sophie's voice trailed off as she heard a sound at the window.

Getting up from his chair, Eliot held out his arm to stop the others from passing him. He went to the window to see what it was. If it was anything dangerous, he needed to be the first to confront it. Twitching back the curtain, a smiling Parker greeted him on the tiny balcony. He unlocked the window so she could come in. "What do you think you're doing? You had no rope and people could see you." His voice shook with frustration.

Smiling widely, Parker said, "There's no one in the parking lot, the window is at the back of the hotel, and there's a depression in the wall that I slid down. It was fun."

"Fun?" Eliot's eyes blinked as he tried to figure out what to say next when Nate interrupted.

"Come on over here you two and sit down. We're all here, Hardison, so give us the intel."

Having completely ignored all the byplay going on in the room, Hardison started to relay all that he'd found. "Avalos is a local boy. He's got no connections to any of the big cartels and definitely no overseas connections. That's good. He's got three of the local gangs cooperating according to ICE records. That's bad. These gangs are into some heavy drugs but not weapons."

Eliot relaxed a bit at that. There was no way they were equipped to handle a gang of gunrunners. He'd walk away and hope the others would follow his lead.

Continuing, Hardison said, "He has only been working this area for about seven months. I checked his family and none of them are involved with anything related to crime. This boy did some time in jail for grand theft auto, and I think he got some schooling there 'cause he came out and opened shop with a whole different inventory if you know what I mean. ICE doesn't have anything on him that will stick. The file they have on him has a _keep your eye on this guy_ note but nothing currently active. Macias cheated one of the gang leaders in his cartel and Avalos took exception to that. His exception is to the tune of 50% if Macias wants to stay in business. That's pretty much it. I dug really deep and I'll keep on digging."

Nate sat back. "This is good. Avalos got the drop on us but he's not connected and he's never seen Parker or me. So we go after Macias in a different way. Here's what we'll do."

* * *

TBC

Time for Plan B.

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. I really appreciate your comments and have tried to use the constructive criticism to improve this story.


	5. Chapter 5

That's What I Do Ch 5

_A/N: I have no rights to the world of Leverage; I am just placing their characters in a story of my own. I intend no copyright infringement. Sorry this update took a while. I wanted to map out the rest of the story to make sure the plan actually works._

* * *

Peter Macias stood as his secretary ushered his 10:00 appointment in.

"Mr. Macias? I'm Malcolm Reynolds; we spoke on the phone." The tall man had a hearty handshake.

Macias nodded his head and gestured for his guest to have a seat. "How did you learn about my company?" If it had been one of his former disgruntled clients who talked, this could get sticky.

"I learned about your investment practices from a Ms. Garcia. She said you had helped her with her portfolio for retirement. You were able to keep her from losing everything when the market started its fall."

Macias breathed a sigh of relief. This Garcia had been his seed person, the one person he actually had dealt with fairly to use as a reference for all his other clients. This could be good. "I was glad to be able to help her. She'd been a teacher all her life and, due to state law, was no longer eligible for Social Security _and_ her teacher retirement. We were able to build her savings into a nice little nest egg. Enough money so that she should be taken care of for the rest of her life. So, how much were you wanting to invest?"

"Oh, I am not here to invest money; I'm here to show you a stock that will help you earn even more." The brown-haired man looked at him piercingly. "I hope I can trust you with this information. I have…privileged…information about it. I know from researching your business that I can trust you to be discrete."

Macias tried to hide his smile. This man must be involved in insider trading. That he'd brought his information to Macias showed he'd done more than a little homework. Reynolds probably found out about some of his underhanded practices and knew that they each would have enough dirt to be used as blackmail on the other if necessary. "I see," he said as he leaned back in his chair. "So what kind of business arrangement did you have in mind?" He could make a killing off of this information.

He'd just started his own scam only five months ago. Dooley, his teacher in the slammer, had told him he'd have to pick up and leave everything and everyone behind and even change his identity every few years. That wasn't a problem. His family could go to hell as far as he was concerned. They'd not helped him one bit ten years ago when he'd been picked up after stealing that Ferrari. Out from prison, he'd started this new "business." He had been putting enough aside to keep him afloat when he would have to move when Avalos had discovered what Macias was doing in _his_ territory. He'd forced Macias to pay for the privilege of continuing his business. This Reynolds could help him recoup some of his losses due to Avalos' cut. Enough for him to leave this town.

There was only one small problem: Avalos. He had to be certain that Avalos stayed out of this entirely. If he realized that Macias had opened a new partnership with someone else, Avalos would get one of his gang members to take him out. And then he wouldn't have to worry about moving anywhere else. No one cheated Avalos and got away with it. Not in this town.

"What can you show me?"

Nate leaned back in the chair. He'd hooked him. Now all he had to do was steer the mark the way he wanted him to go. Opening his briefcase, Nate pulled out documents that Hardison had created. It showed numerous shares of a stock that had been purchased by various individuals, but the stocks were in reality worthless. They existed only on the papers he had in front of him. There was no way he'd mess with the stock market by creating a dummy corporation. If someone else looked into it and invested, they wouldn't be able to shut it down because it could hurt them. No, Macias would be the only true investor.

Hardison had been able to sneak a feed into Macias' computer so that if he tried to access information, he'd get what they wanted him to see. This was rather tricky but hopefully they could get him to invest enough, shut down the so-called stock, and leave town with the money for their clients. If this failed, Nate really wasn't sure what they could do. It would be their first failure. "I cannot invest my own money openly right now. I need someone as a front until this company buyout goes through. Are you interested? If not, I need to go find someone else with the guts enough for this venture." Nate's voice had been rising in pitch so that by the time he ended the sentence, he was almost shouting.

"_Nate. Stay in character. Do not scare him too much."_ Sophie's voice echoed in his ear.

He took a deep breath to calm down. They could not help their client if he lost his temper. He wished he could just have Eliot beat the crap out of Macias just because it would make him feel better. That petty little thought took the last of the fury out of his voice. "Are you in? Yes or no?"

"I need to check into this some more."

"I will give you a day and then the offer is off the table."

"How do I get in touch with you?"

"I'll contact you tomorrow." As Nate stood, he walked over in front of a framed piece of art. "This is lovely," he said as he admired it. Good thing it was him in the office now, Sophie must have had a hard time keeping her fingers off of it. It looked to be a page from a medieval manuscript. He reached up to straighten it and place a mini-cam in the scroll-work of the ornate frame. He'd already placed a bug under the man's desk.

Proud of his acquisition, Macias stood next to Nate to admire it as well. "Yes, this is the centerpiece for a collection I want to build." Dooley had told him to keep his money not only in a Cayman account and stocks but in liquefiable assets. This piece was small enough that he could pack it into a suitcase. Turning, he said, "I think I'll be in touch." His mind was racing to see how much money he could invest. He'd be up all night trying to figure it out. No matter. The gain would outweigh the loss of sleep. He showed Reynolds out himself.

Macias sat down at his desk, pulled over the stack of papers that Reynolds had left, and booted up his computer. He had work to do.

***

Back in their new hotel room, Sophie leaned back in her chair. She was essentially useless for this one. She could not be seen again by Macias. "Eliot? How are things with you and Parker?" The second half of Nate's plan involved taking Avalos down. There was no client involved with this part of the con. No, this was to get even for what he'd done to Eliot, Sophie, and Hardison.

Eliot lowered his binoculars. They were down on South Wharf Street near the tracks. The warehouse he was watching was the home of one of the gangs that answered to Avalos. Parker was somewhere; he wasn't exactly sure where though. "Parker? What do you see?"

On the roof of the adjoining warehouse, Parker was holding her own surveillance. There's four guys headed your way. I think there's only one left inside. I'm going to go in."

"Parker!" Eliot barked. "Nate said you weren't to go in yet. Get the layout, place exterior surveillance cameras, and get back here."

"I can't get the layout unless I go in." It was completely logical to her. What was the fuss? "Besides, you can't climb yet."

Eliot fumed in the van. She was right. Right now he was no good to the team. _He _knew if it became life or death for one of them he could force himself through the pain to defend them, but they were still treating him as though he was an invalid. Nate and Sophie both insisted he not do anything strenuous and had convinced Parker to follow their lead, and Hardison was just avoiding him. It was enough to make him want to punch something. Resting his arm on the back of the seat, Eliot settled down to wait. If he tried to go after Parker now, he might draw attention to her and get her killed. "Fine. You go in, get what we need, and come right back."

"You're not Nate; you can't…"

"Parker!" Nate interrupted their impending argument as he sat down in his car. "He's right. I sent him because Eliot will back you up if you get in trouble. So, don't get in trouble." He hoped she would get the unspoken reminder that they needed to cut Eliot some slack for a few days. He'd moved almost normally this morning, and the bruising had gone from blue-black to an ugly shade of greenish-yellow. But that still did not mean he was in full fighting trim. Nate would try to give Eliot at least one, hopefully two, more days of recuperation before needing his skills again. Of course, nothing had gone to plan so far so why should that?

"Parker?"

"Okaaayy. Sheesh, you would think that I need a keeper, well I've been…"

"Parker, we can still hear you." Sophie interrupted her.

"Oops."

Sophie shook her head and looked at Hardison. He didn't seem to be doing much online at the moment. This might be the perfect time. "Hardison, what are you doing right now?"

"Just watching Macias access that fake web info I planted in his computer."

She pulled out her comm and placed it on the table. "Can I talk to you?"

"Huh?" Hardison looked up bemused and noticed her fingers tapping against the table where her comm lay.

She arched an eyebrow at him and nodded down at the table.

His Nana didn't raise no fool. Hardison took out his own comm but opened a new window on his computer and lowered the volume. He could hear the others talking via his laptop, but they wouldn't hear them. He settled back in his chair pretty certain what the topic of conversation was going to be. The first words out of her mouth proved him right.

"Why are you so nervous around Eliot? We've all seen it."

"I'm not nervous around him." He jutted his chin at her, but her steady gaze deflated his antagonism. "Okay, maybe a little." At her pointed stare he said, "Okay, maybe a lot."

"Why? He's still the same man he was last week."

"Yeah, the same guy who almost took my head off when I didn't clean up the mess in the kitchen." Sophie's confused stare made him elaborate. "If he almost hit me because I didn't wash my mug, what's he going to do since I almost got him killed." There. It was out.

"What are you talking about? I was the one with the gun against her head. He stopped fighting because he couldn't get the guy holding me hostage. If anything, it's my fault."

Shaking his head in frustration, Hardison punctuated his words with his hands. "No. I was the one who didn't find out about Avalos. About the gang connections, the drugs, this cartel." And then he confessed the worst part. "I was the one who didn't lock the door to the room." His eyes were bleak. He'd failed the team; he failed his teammate. He hadn't quite gotten to the point of feeling that Eliot was his friend. Hell, he didn't think Eliot considered any of them to be friends. But he had loosened up a bit lately around them and might loosen up some more. Hang out. Watch football or whatever. But once he learned the truth…that would not happen. Their team, their twisted family would be fractured because of Hardison's mistake.

"Oh." Sophie had no idea what to say to that.

"If they would have had to break down the door, Eliot would have heard and then you wouldn't have had a gun to your head and he wouldn't have been knocked out and kicked and gotten a concussion and broken ribs and thrown up and then have to kill that guy."

Sophie was certain it was that last bit that bothered him the most. "Hardison, surely you realized that Eliot has killed before this. His job was to steal stolen items back and that was dangerous. Not all thieves are non-violent. He _hurts_ people for a living." Just saying the words made her pause. But Eliot was now protecting them. Nate would not have invited Eliot to join the crew if he was a murderer like that Butcher of Kiev. "Eliot may be a lot of things and may have done a lot of bad things, but he's on_ our_ side. And we're working to help people."

"Yeah, it's just he gets so angry, and I'm afraid he's going to start swinging. And once he knows it all," Hardison looked at her with sad eyes, "I don't think he'll want to work with us anymore."

Sophie wasn't sure what to say to that. Eliot was the most distant of them all. But the hurt he'd shown told her he didn't want to be so distant. "I think you need to talk to him."

"Uh uh. I do that you might as well find a new hacker."

Hardison was halted from saying anything else when his computer let out a squeal. The squeal came from Parker. He turned his laptop around and raised the volume. What had happened?

* * *

TBC. I promise that the next installment will be posted soon so we can see the second half of Nate's master plan for revenge.


	6. Chapter 6

That's What I Do Ch 6

_Leverage is owned and created by Dean Devllin and Jon Rogers. I am borrowing the characters for a bit and trying to stay as close to canon as I can._

_I am soooo sorry for leaving you all hanging for so long. Life got in the way, and then I realized I'd written myself into a corner with some of the story. I have the next two chapters sketched out and hope to conclude this story soon. _

* * *

Eliot sat bolt upright at Parker's squeal. Reaching towards his comm, he questioned her. "What's wrong?" He heard no response. Opening the van's door, Eliot moved quickly to the back wall of the warehouse. He leaped up to grab the fire ladder and began to pull himself up it. His barely healing ribs protested and made it very difficult to move. Only the fact that Parker had not yet responded drove him upward.

Hardison put his comm back in his ear. "Parker! What's wrong?" He could hear little breathy sounds but wasn't sure what was causing them. Was it pain? He panicked. "PARKER!"

Eliot put on a burst of speed. He reached the rooftop and saw the open skylight that Parker must have used to go inside. Eliot didn't pause to see what awaited him. He slithered through the opening that the lithe thief had used, scraping his shoulders on the frame. Adrenaline had blotted out all pain at this point.

"M…Muh.." came from Parker's comm..

Eliot put on a burst of speed as he moved down the hallway. Where was she? He glanced into each room as he passed it. No thief. "Parker," he hissed. "Where are you?" A giggle stopped him short. What the hell? He'd heard it with his ears not the comm. The hallway had ended and opened out into a walkway around the northern side of a large room. Eliot spotted Parker leaning over the railing yearning towards something. "Parker," he repeated. He didn't realize that his voice carried rage within it.

Back in the hotel, that rage made Sophie and Hardison share a worried glance. Was Eliot mad at Parker or at someone hurting her? "Eliot? Is she…is Parker…" Hardison couldn't finish the thought. Sophie reached out her hand to touch his, offering a bit of comfort. The younger man, used to the world of ones and zeros, was getting a rude awakening to the world of crime this week.

"She's fine." Eliot bit off each word as it came through his lips. He clenched his fists against each side as he approached her. Here he was worried about her, hell all of them had been worried, and there she was, ignoring them, her eyes intently focused on something below. He squeezed his eyes shut. He could not lose control. He'd never hurt her but if he hit the metal railing, he might hurt himself. More damage was not on his list unless it was someone else doing the receiving.

Parker turned her head as Eliot approached. The gleeful grin on her face faded as she caught his mood. She was confused and cocked her head to one side. "What?" She genuinely did not understand.

Hearing her voice, Hardison yelled through her comm, "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

"Why would you think that?" She turned away from Eliot to look downward again, but when he cleared his throat, she answered the indignant man. "I'm fine. I just…there's just…" She squealed again. "Money!"

"What?" said three thieves.

"Eliot, what is she talking about?" Sophie decided it was time for her to step into the conversation. Goodness knows someone with a varied vocabulary was needed right now. She could just imagine the anger that Eliot was probably displaying. Only the fact that Parker was not good at reading people probably kept her from freaking out. A pissed-off Eliot, especially one who must be in pain, should not be ignored.

Eliot took a deep breath that caused him to cough. He closed his eyes to self-assess. Yep, he'd popped something loose with that climb. He'd have to get Nate to rewrap his ribs tighter. Realizing he was shaking with adrenaline, he took a deep breath, stopping before his ribs began to hurt just to calm down. Looking around first, Eliot peered over the railing to see what it was that had so consumed Parker. No big surprise. Money. Cash and lots of it.

"Hey guys? There's several open suitcases full of cash down below."

"How much?" Nate broke in. He'd heard the whole series of events but since he'd been in Macias' office for most of it, he couldn't ask for clarification. It had driven him nearly to distraction. He hated being on the sidelines. That would have to change in the future.

"I don't know, man, but it looks like they're all large bills."

"I'll go see!"

Eliot grabbed Parker around her upper arms and held her back while everyone else on the comms shouted "No!" in a loud chorus.

"I've got her," he ground out. "Stop kicking."

"Parker!" barked Nate. "Remember what we talked about?" Nate really hoped that Parker remembered her promise to not cause Eliot to have to strain himself unless it was really necessary. The man had been through a lot lately.

Parker stopped kicking and relaxed. "Why can't I go see?" she whined.

"Because now no one is watching the outside and we have no idea when the owner of all that money is coming back." Nate tried to use reason. These people were still loose cannons much of the time.

"Oh..I.. Parker, did you set up the cameras yet?" Hardison asked while he tried to call up images. Her affirmative response came just as the first of the images began to come through. He created a four-way split on his laptop so he and Sophie could see from several angles. Sophie shifted her chair over so that she could watch too. "All right. I can see outside the building now. You're clear…Damn it!" said Hardison.

"What's wrong, Hardison, speak to me." Nate could hear the worry in Hardison's voice.

"Parker. Eliot. You got incoming. A car just pulled up and four guys, big guys, just got out. They're headed for the warehouse." He and Sophie watched as the foursome went to the door, tried the handle, and, unable to get in, stepped back and faced the parking area.

Eliot didn't wait for Parker to respond. He grabbed her and moved them both back into the shadows of a side room. "Parker. Was there an outside staircase up here?"

The thief shook her head no. "The only staircase is the one going below," she said as she pointed toward its location with her chin.

"Nate? We're going to stay here for right now. Maybe we can see or hear something." Eliot didn't have to add that they were cut off from all but the roof exit. "Did you set up a rigging harness?" he asked the blond.

She looked at him and knew she'd let the team down. She had known she could get away. There was a building close enough that she could leap to it if she had to but there was no way that Eliot could. She'd promised Nate she would not get into trouble so that Eliot would not have to help her. It had been so much easier when she'd been on her own. But then she wouldn't have these people...these friends in her life.

The look on her face answered his question. At least if it got dicey she could get away. He'd deal with whatever happened as he always had. Alone. Eliot stiffened as he heard the door below open. "Going off mic now." He wouldn't pull out the comm. but he wanted the others to know that they would not be speaking aloud to avoid discovery.

Nate was pulling into the hotel parking lot as Eliot spoke. He knew it was vital to have radio silence, but it killed him to not be able to converse with his team. Well, he could talk but he couldn't get any answers. This was a situation he wasn't used to and those two were much better equipped to handle it than he was. He rushed up the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator and hurried down the hall to their hotel room.

Sophie and Hardison barely glanced up as Nate entered. Their entire attention was focused on what was on the computer screen.

"We've got movement," said Sophie as she pointed to one of the screens. Another car was pulling up outside.

"Hey, y'all got someone else coming in." Hardison enlarged the image as much as he could. "It's Avalos."

"All right. You two be real careful." Nate's words were a nervous reaction to the scene unfolding. His imagination had gone into overdrive.

"Parker managed to set a camera somewhere so we can see part of the floor. We just can't see that table of money."

In the warehouse, Parker jerked as Hardison spoke. She reached into her waist pouch and pulled out a minicam. She held it up to Eliot and pantomimed that she was going to place it. She moved too fast; he couldn't get a hold of her to stop her. Eliot didn't dare make a commotion, so he watched as Parker ghosted up to the support beam, attached the camera, and returned to their hidden spot. As softly as she could, she whispered, "New camera."

Having boosted the comm's gain, Hardison caught her words and searched for the signal. Finding it, he deleted one of the exterior cameras in favor of the new images. If they came into the warehouse, they would be able to see what transpired. Two men got out of the front seat. They looked around scanning the area for possible trouble. One knocked on the roof of the car. Avalos stepped out of his limo preceded by two very beefy men. He nodded towards the first two; their orders were to stay outside in case of trouble. The other two headed towards the warehouse followed by Avalos. All seven stopped within speaking distance looking like a pack of wolves ready to tear each other's throats out. They did not realize that five other people would be in attendance.

* * *

_I hope you found this worth the wait. More to come and please let me know what you thought._


	7. Chapter 7

That's What I Do Chapter Seven

_The world of Leverage belongs to Dean Devlin and John Rogers. I'm just playing in their sandbox. Chapter contains cussing._

* * *

Leaving Belio and Hernandez behind at the car, the other three headed towards the warehouse. Rios and Vasquez both out-massed and towered over Avalos. The man himself stood at only 5'6" and had the stature of a TV courtroom lawyer. This innocuous exterior hid a mind teeming with viciousness. He had risen through the ranks via hard work and selective "removal" of opponents. Avalos had taken down those who'd stood in his way by setting them up to look like they were cheating their superiors. He'd never ordered the hit himself; he didn't have to. He just made sure the hit was necessary in the eyes of his superiors. He'd spent some time in the slammer where he'd developed some other contacts. This one old-timer, Dooley, had ratted out Macias when Macias had opened shop in St. Louis. It was no coincidence that Avalos had caught him. Avalos had gone looking for Macias and a quick way to make some more cash. But Avalos had gotten a bit complacent lately and was losing his edge although he didn't realize it. And it would cost him.

Rios limped to the left of and behind Avalos; his left arm was supported by a sling. He'd broken it when he and that guy had fallen down the hill. When he and Belio had attacked those intruders, Rios didn't expect the shorter of the two to put up such a flight. Of course, he bolstered himself with the thought that gravity had taken him down, not that cowboy. He snickered. At least he could breathe. Vasquez' nose was so swollen that he snorted like a pug. Most of the air he sucked in right now was coming in through his mouth. They both would give that bastard some serious payback the next time they saw him. The seven entered the warehouse through the side door.

_That bastard_ was torn between watching to make sure that Parker didn't do anything stupid and listening for movement on the stairs at the end of the hallway. Breaking his own self-imposed silence, Eliot whispered, "Tell." He couldn't see all the way over the railing and didn't want to risk being seen. He watched as the men entered. One had many scratches on his face, his arm in a sling, and walked with a limp. Eliot realized he must have been the opponent who'd gone down the hill with him. He looked like the foliage had torn him to shreds. The other had a bandaged nose. Eliot's whole body tensed. Bad mistake. He forced himself to relax a bit. He's stay wary and alert, but tensing an overtaxed body too soon would burn out his energy so it wouldn't be there when he needed it most.

Sophie took it upon herself to narrate the events they were witnessing.

Avalos did not lead the group over to the table. Not yet. He needed to verify the thugs were who they said they were. Rios went over to the leader and after a few words determined that yes, they were from _los escorpións_. Once satisfied, Avalos waved the men over to the table with the open suitcases.

Above, Parker clenched her hands. Too many people were near that money. That lovely…wonderful…money. She didn't realize Eliot was watching her. Her sudden intake of breath alerted him that she might do something irrational that he'd have to stop. Watching her eyes darken with anger, he was surprised. Then he made the connection. She wanted the money and nothing would stand in her way. He started to believe her story about wanting money to roll in rather than spend. Weird. Convinced that she would not jeopardize them for the time being, he turned his attention back to the scene being played out below.

The gang member with the scorpion tattoo up the side of his neck was speaking to Avalos. "You promised us that you would be able to move the merchandise. What's taking so long? We want our money. All of it." He gestured towards the open suitcase.

"I did move some of it. Remember, I have not only your inventory but that of the 14th Street Bandillero and the Bandidos. Too much product and the Feds will get involved. They'll think we've got guns and come sniffing."

In the hotel room, Nate sat up. The words had triggered an idea. It wasn't there yet but…

"Nah, man. The Feds won't come in. TABC's got nothin' and the cops, well, let's just say that the cops won't stick their nose into our business right now. But you moved some. So where's the money."

Avalos shook his head. "I only have the money for the produce I sold. The rest I'll have next week. I'm just waiting on…"

The gangster whipped out a gun and pointed it at Avalos. Avalos just smirked and nodded at the door behind the men. Turning, they saw the two who'd been left behind now behind them with semi-automatic weapons.

"Don't threaten me," said Avalos. "You take me down, you go down. Look. I have half of your money right here but you'll never get the rest or the product if you kill me. And, you'll make my boss very unhappy. So what do you say?"

Slowly lowering his gun, the gangster glared at his opponent. "Someday you will make a stupid mistake. Then you pay."

"Whatever. Take your money and go. I'll meet you back here in three days to give you the rest. Remember, no turf wars either. You leave the other two gangs alone and stay out of their territory."

Not really having a choice, the gangster jerked his head towards the two cases and had his members shut them and pick them up. "We'll be back. Three days. 11:00 p.m." They left the building.

All five waited for Avalos to leave so Eliot and Parker could also. But he didn't. Thus they couldn't. What was he waiting for? They didn't have long to find their answer.

"Heads up!" said Hardison. He was the first to notice a new vehicle approaching. The three men who exited the Chrysler were slightly better dressed than the first group but that did nothing to disguise the implied danger of their presence. A quick conversation and verification with the two standing guard and they were admitted into the building.

"Do you have the money?" the apparent leader asked Avalos.

"Do you have the drugs? It doesn't look like it."

"No, they're somewhere safe for now."

"I'm not offering to sell it without seeing it and knowing the purity," stated Avalos.

"Damn," thought Eliot. It must be cocaine or heroin. Depending on how professional they were, it just got more serious.

"Seriously?" Shaking his head, Hardison close his eyes and began to mutter. In all his cons, he'd never had to deal with a big time drug dealer. Hell, not even a small time drug dealer. They were too scary. And crazy. And dangerous. Now he was glad Eliot was on his side because he knew Nate would not let this go. Nate would not walk away. Hardison opened his eyes to watch the disaster unfold.

Sanchez, the leader, pulled out a small package and handed it to Rios who whipped out a knife and used it to make a small slit in the package. Eliot noted the presence of a butterfly knife kept in Rios' back left pocket for future reference.

Avalos stepped over, slipped his little finger through the slit and pulled out a sample. After testing it, he nodded his head, satisfied about its purity. He nodded and said, "Bring the amount we agreed upon, and I'll move it. Meet me at Waverly Storage on Delmar in three days. 10:00 p.m." It was a good plan, he thought. Delmar was only 7 miles away. He'd have time to get back here and set up for the meet with Poblano from _los escorpións_. Avalos showed Sanchez the door, and they both exited.

Parker made a move towards the railing, but Eliot yanked her back. This place was turning into Grand –fucking- Central Station. With their luck, the Feds would be next.

Their luck wasn't quite that bad. Sophie spoke, "Those barbarians left the area that we can see but they're not outside with Avalos."

"Uh…guys?" Hardison broke the split computer screen so he could see each camera feed separately. "I don't see them!" he alerted Parker and Eliot.

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_I hope you all enjoyed this chapter; please let me know the good, the bad, and the ugly_


	8. Chapter 8

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That's What I Do Ch 8

_Leverage is a fun world to play in but it doesn't belong to me._

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Eliot cocked an eyebrow at Parker. She might know the location of where the thugs were headed.

"Safe," she mouthed. She hadn't had a chance to find it before Eliot had shown up but it was a good guess. Unless they had been spotted. Tugging his sleeve, she pointed to the right and they moved off.

A clanging sound preceded Rios and Avalos as they began to climb the stairs.

"Move faster," Eliot hissed.

Parker reacted without thinking and spun away towards the roof access. Escape was foremost in her mind. Then she stopped as she remembered that Eliot couldn't follow. Four months ago, she wouldn't have paused for a moment. But now she was part of a team, a …family of sorts as she had learned in Serbia. Plus, she'd promised Nate. Knowing Eliot was right on her heels, she swerved into an office off the main hallway. A quick glance around showed her that they'd lucked out. It was a storage room with 7' high cabinets and stacks of crates and boxes.

Eliot figured that they would both hide within the stack but Parker headed towards one of the cabinets. Realizing what she intended he gave her a boost. With her hair stuffed inside her leather cap, only her face and wrists showed at all in the dusty shadows near the ceiling. She would be hidden well enough.

The crates would have to do for Eliot's hiding space. Shoving one over, he created a narrow space for him to crawl through and soon he folded his much-abused body into as small a shape as he could. It was a tight fit and his ribs protested mightily and his breath came in short pants.

Back at the hotel, Hardison increased the gain on Parker and Eliot's comms. Only the three outside were visible to any camera. He wished he had a visual on the goons so he could warn the others.

"Are you safe?" asked Nate.

" 'afe," replied Parker softly.

"Huh?" Nate couldn't figure out what she said.

"She means they're safe. The "s" sound travels pretty far so she omitted it."

Nate's expression showed respect for both Parker's judgment and Hardison's knowledge of the fact.

"Mmmhumm," said Parker. She smiled slightly. At least Hardison had understood, both what she'd said and why. They were becoming parts of a whole new thing.

Her smile vanished as the room's door opened. She hid her face into her arms, covering her exposed wrists at the same time.

Eliot closed his mouth and slowed his breathing down as much as he could. He didn't want to warn the goons of his presence any more than Parker had.

The three at the hotel listening couldn't discern what was being discussed but the addition of new voices clued them in that Parker and Eliot weren't alone.

Eliot need not have worried about the goons hearing him. Vasquez' broken nose mouth-breathing covered any sound Eliot might have made. The man was wheezing from the climb up the stairs.

Parker peeked to see Rios going to a cabinet, opening it, and then opening the safe concealed inside. She leaned out a bit more and had to bite back a squeal. Her avaricious nature was being taxed to the limits with this job. The money she saw stacked inside would have felt sooo good being rubbed against her face. But these men had stopped Eliot. There was no way _she_ could tussle with them. Sure. Eliot would help her but he shouldn't have to. She almost snorted. She did have some sense.

Being essentially blind to what was going on in the room, Eliot listened with every fiber in his being. He needed to know if it was just those two. He was hurt but so were they. He didn't hear footsteps approaching his hiding spot which was good. But Nate would want a report of what he did learn.

Rios slumped into the chair behind the desk. He had no idea that the bastard that he wanted to crush was no more than five feet away from him. Nor was he aware of the agile thief above and behind him. His cell phone rang and Rios pulled it out. There was a lot of "uhhuhs" and "yeahs" before he finally hung up.

"So what's the plan?" snuffled Vasquez.

"We're to leave the money in the safe until Friday right before the meet."

The two men smiled at each other. Things were looking up for them. Fifteen years ago they had been working in Avalos' chop shop. When the shop had been raided, the whole garage had gone to jail. But the three of them had known each other since 7th grade. If anyone ever unsealed their juvenile records, they'd have a long list of infractions and other delinquencies to read about. Avalos warned them to stay clean in jail and all three had been released early for good behavior. Released with some new skills…and some new contacts. Now, they had more money than ever before. Never mind that some of their new friends would plant them in the ground if they screwed up. It was worth it.

Vasquez' lip curled. If only he didn't have a broken arm. He'd hunt that bastard down and try out some things he'd heard about that caused major pain before death. Maybe he'd get lucky someday. The perks they had included the opportunity to beat the shit out of someone who pissed them off. Vasquez closed his eyes to remember and relish the sound of his bat striking that cowboy's head and the feel of flesh giving as his boot stomped down on his back. He remembered the horrified look on the brunette's face when her friend had fallen. He didn't think they were an item; she hadn't reacted as if they were. He'd also like to get to know her a lot better. He squeezed his left hand into a fist and grinned.

Rios watched his partner warily. Sometimes he scared him. Who knew what was going through his mind? He just knew he would never want to be on the receiving end of those thoughts. He could always tell when violence was uppermost in Vasquez' mind. He reached up and touched his nose. It still hurt. Looking in the mirror this morning he'd not been surprised at the huge black eyes he'd developed. He remembered his vision turning white after being struck by that guy's elbow. He knew that Vasquez would kill that dude if he ever saw him again. Vasquez had shown Rios his gun this morning. No more hand to hand.

A cough broke the men's contemplation.

Vasquez opened his eyes and looked up at his partner. He cocked an eyebrow and smirked. Getting an answering nod, he pushed himself up and walked around the desk. They both had some place to be. The Cat Scratch Club would be a good start.

The real culprit of the cough was Eliot. It was dusty within the stack of crates and his throat was dry. A deep inhale had finished the job, and he could only half-suppress the cough. Parker realized that Eliot had made the noise and shifted to make it easier to leap down and do what she could to help. But they didn't seem to realize it hadn't been either one of them. They were stupid. They needed to leave now.

They must have heard her. Vasquez closed the safe door; she heard the lock engage with a beep. Both left the room and she could hear their footsteps receding down the hallway. Being experts in subterfuge, neither Parker nor Eliot moved.

"Hey, you guys still there?" Hardison asked. He received twin grunts of affirmation. "Those guys are all leaving."

"You sure," asked Nate. He didn't want to have a loose end bite them in the butt again.

"Yeah. The two who were with Avalos and the two from inside just drove away. The other group had already left."

"Alright," said Nate, "you're clear. Get out and get back here.

For a moment, Eliot wasn't sure he could stand. He'd cramped up while in hiding and wasn't sure he could find the leverage he needed to pull himself upright.

"Pssst. Eliot?" asked Parker.

Back at the hotel, all three winced at the shout. About to chide her, Hardison realized it was his fault. He'd forgotten that he'd increased the comm's gain and the volume was still set extremely high. With a self-deprecating grin, Hardison turned the volume to normal.

At the warehouse, Eliot had finally maneuvered one leg underneath him and rose to a crouch. Inching his way through the stack, he came out into the dimly lit room and headed towards the door. Realized that he'd walked through the door alone, he looked back.

Like a flower towards the sun, Parker had drifted back towards the cabinet that concealed the safe. Growling, Eliot went back and yelled, "Come on!" He was tired and hurt and pissed off. He was as tired as Nate was of these loose cannons. These people still did their own thing too much of the time. He understood orders and understood that successful missions happened when orders were followed. When they weren't followed, people got hurt…or killed. No one was dying on his watch. At least no on on _his_ team.

Reaching back a hand, he snagged her arm and towed her along behind him until she caught up. She pushed past him and headed towards the roof access.

Eliot grimaced as the metal frame around the window caught at his shoulders. He hadn't felt it when he'd entered; he'd been too worried about Parker then. When he was through and standing on the roof, Parker was already at the edge of the roof looking over.

Everyone heard her say "Hey!" as Eliot pulled her back. "No one looks up," she said while swatting his hand away.

"I do." said Eliot.

Hardison saw one of the men look up. All three clustered around the laptop held their collective breaths. A whoosh filled the room as he turned back towards the car and got in. Hardison crammed three gummy frogs into his mouth at once, chewed furiously, and washed the gooey mess down with some orange soda. Nate clapped Hardison on the shoulder as he stood up. He was relieved. Parker and Eliot were safe for now. Now he could plan.

On the roof, Eliot watched until the car had driven away. Turning around, he headed towards the ladder that led down to the ground. Parker had already reached the ground and was headed towards the van.

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_I hope to finish this story very soon. Thank you to all those who've patiently waited. I appreciate your patience. Please let me know what you thought about this chapter or the story so far._


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